


Here Be Dragons (Or Why Restraint Is Overrated)

by vix_spes



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Community: hprare_cliche, HP: EWE, M/M, Public Sex, leather pants
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-19
Updated: 2013-09-19
Packaged: 2017-12-27 01:08:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/972542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vix_spes/pseuds/vix_spes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Neville’s never really been the impulsive one – he’s always left that to Harry and Ron but, well, that doesn’t mean that he can’t be impulsive every now and again does it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Here Be Dragons (Or Why Restraint Is Overrated)

**Author's Note:**

> Huge, huge thanks to sordid_humors for beta-ing. Written for hprare-cliche.

Neville breathed a sigh of relief as the gates of the dragon reserve came into view. It felt like he had been travelling forever; he hadn’t, but travelling via portkey - especially when using international portkeys - always left him feeling more than a little disorientated. It was unfortunate then that travelling internationally was such a frequent part of his job.

After the war and after he had completed his NEWT’s at Hogwart’s (at his gran’s insistence) Neville had found himself with plenty of options as to what he was going to do with his life. Some of them were completely unexpected (an offer to join the Auror Corps) whereas others were more expected (the offer from Professor Sprout that she take him on as her assistant with the intention that he would eventually take over her position as Professor of Herbology). To everybody’s surprise, he had turned them all down in favour of something almost completely different. Wanting to remain within the field of herbology but not having any inclination to teach, he had become a herbologist: and a very well-regarded one at that. He had his own flourishing nursery back in England that he co-owned with a friend, but Neville also indulged himself and had a burgeoning side-line in travelling the world to source plants for collectors or potions-masters who didn’t want to do it themselves. It gave him the opportunity to travel the world and meet new people.

In more ways than one, this new direction had been the making of Neville. In doing this job and creating a life for himself he had managed to get out from under his grandmother’s control and become something other than one of ‘the other Gryffindors’. It hadn’t gone down well; far from it, but it had been necessary. The big discovery had been that not only was he attracted to women but that men took his fancy as well. In retrospect, he had wondered why he hadn’t come to this conclusion earlier but then he supposed that, living as close to each other in the Hogwarts dorms as they had done, the other Gryffindors in his year had been more like his brothers than anything more. Beyond that, most of their lessons had been shared with Slytherins and, quite frankly, he had been too afraid to look up the majority of the time, let alone look up and get caught by the likes of Malfoy when he was eyeing up other blokes. That confidence had only come after he left Hogwarts. He’d loved Luna dearly and enjoyed the time that they had spent together, but there was no denying that Rolf Scamander was far better suited to her than Neville had ever been.

Quite simply, he might not have done what everybody had expected of him, he might not be what everyone had expected of him, but in doing precisely that, he had managed to find himself.

Hearing his name called, he looked up to see a vaguely familiar redhead striding towards him. He swallowed heavily. The redhead was Charlie Weasley and was Neville’s contact on the reserve who would allow him to get the raw ingredients he needed. Not that Neville knew him in the slightest. The whole trip had spiralled very quickly out of Neville’s control. The specific ingredients that he needed only grew exceptionally well in the vicinity of dragons - but they had to be specific species of dragon; a species of dragon that just happened to be one of the inhabitants of the Romanian reserve. This had all come out over pints one night with the rest of the Gryffindor lads and the next thing he knew he had a message from Molly Weasley stating that everything had been sorted and he simply needed to contact Charlie and finalise the details. He had done so via owl and now here he was, staring at a ridiculously attractive redhead whose appearance had seemingly sent all of the blood in Neville’s body rushing straight to his cock.

Outside of his family, Charlie Weasley was an unknown quantity. Albeit one that, from the looks of him at least, Neville definitely wanted to get the measure of. Charlie was the complete antithesis of every other male Weasley that Neville was acquainted with, at least in looks, for Neville hadn’t exchanged a single word with the man thus far. Whereas the rest of the brothers were tall and lanky, all of them bar Bill with fiery red hair, Charlie was more compactly built, brawny and heavily muscled with the same shade of auburn hair as his eldest and youngest siblings. Although, as Charlie drew level with him, Neville realised that Charlie and Ron were of a similar build, with Ron maybe just a fraction taller. All thoughts of Ron disappeared with the realisation that Charlie had freckles. Oh so many freckles that Neville had the sudden urge to trace with his tongue. And see just how much of Charlie’s body they actually covered.

When he spoke, it became apparent that Charlie shared the same gregarious nature as the twins. With a broad smile and an outstretched hand, he greeted Neville as an old friend, carrying on conversation as though they had known each other for years, rather than people who had exchanged barely a handful of letters, if they could even be called letters. Though he was no longer the shy creature that he had been those first few years at Hogwarts, Neville could hardly be described as outgoing. It took him time to find himself when he was with people that he didn’t know or barely knew. Charlie Weasley seemed to be the exception as Neville found himself volunteering all sorts of information, contributing to the conversation and laughing as though he had been possessed by somebody with far more self-assurance. By the time that they reached the main compound, Neville found himself hoping that that he had made a friend whose affection would continue beyond this trip.

Sending an admiring look after Charlie’s arse, he acknowledged that there was nothing wrong with hoping for more. After all, Tonks had said that Charlie wasn’t at all discerning about the gender of his lovers. And if Charlie wasn’t interested in more, then hopefully, at the very least, Neville had made a new friend.

~*~

By the end of his first evening on the reserve Neville had come to two conclusions. Firstly, Charlie was an incorrigible flirt. And secondly, in correlation to the first conclusion, it was going to take all of Neville’s self-control to not sleep with the older wizard within twelve hours.

Now, Neville was by no means promiscuous but neither could he proclaim to be a saint; and he was fairly certain that a flirtatious Charlie Weasley, never mind one intent on all-out seduction, was more than capable of tempting a saint. Were Charlie simply one of the anonymous hook-ups that Neville occasionally indulged in in one of the many foreign cities that he normally visited on trips like this then Neville would have absolutely no hesitation in climbing Charlie like a Nimbus 2000. Sadly, Charlie was far from an anonymous hook-up and Neville could already envisage Ron’s face if he found out that Neville had slept with one of his brothers. Not that that would stop Neville should the opportunity arise. It certainly hadn’t stopped either Harry or Dean from dating Ginny and she had not only been the youngest Weasley but the only female Weasley as well so the overprotectiveness had been understood. Charlie, by comparison, was a fully-grown adult, the second oldest son and more than capable of looking after himself. Not that Ginny couldn’t look after herself. After all, her Bat-Bogey Hex was legendary and the former male students of Hogwarts still shuddered at the memory of it.

Then again, Neville was under no illusions as to whether, were anything to happen between himself and Charlie, a relationship would develop. He just wanted one night of what he assumed would be incredibly hot sex. Two nights would be preferable but he wasn’t fussy. He’d take what he could get … _if_ he could get anything.

~*~

After three days of doing his utmost to remain focused on his work and create professional contacts that would enable him to return to the reserve in the future, three days of trying desperately to avoid Charlie wherever possible in the hope that avoiding him would mean Neville wouldn’t have to stop himself from jumping the redhead’s bones, his resolve failed. This was partly due to the fact that avoiding Charlie seemed virtually impossible. However, a big part of why his resolve failed could easily be attributed to Charlie’s leather trousers. But only Charlie’s leather trousers. For some reason, despite the fact that leather and dragonhide were the _de facto_ material for all of the dragon tamers, the only clothing that Neville was interested in examining closely was Charlie’s.

Not that Neville was working under the assumption that something was going to happen; he wasn’t that naïve. He may no longer be the chubby, bumbling Neville Longbottom who had been too timid to say boo to a bowtruckle but neither was he brimming with self-confidence either where his looks and personality were concerned. His confidence in his work abilities was quite the reverse. Not only was Charlie eight years older than Neville but you would have to be blind to miss the admiring looks from the younger dragon tamers and trainees that were wandering around the reserve. Still, it wasn’t as though any of it mattered. Neville could harvest the last ingredient that he needed tonight and then he would be back to England tomorrow. He had already been away much longer than usual.

Still, Neville couldn’t help but be filled with a combination of dread and excitement when Charlie came to find him at dusk to go and find the last ingredient that he needed. It was just bloody typical that this particular ingredient he needed only grew in one particular area on the reserve, and the area in question was inhabited by a Hungarian Horntail who went by the name of Norbert; the very same Norbert that Harry and Ron had smuggled out of Hogwarts in their first year. Not that he’d believed that story until Charlie had confirmed it barely two days ago; after all, Harry and Ron had been drunk when they’d told it. Norbert had grown into a fully-sized adult Hungarian Horntail who was absolutely vicious to anybody who wasn’t Charlie, who Norbert absolutely adored like one of his own hatchlings. It was for that reason that it was Charlie who accompanied Neville tonight, even though Neville would have preferred any one of the other handlers.

He waited until Charlie had Norbert distracted before turning and pulling out the tools that he would need, proceeding to harvest the ingredient. Neville worked as quickly as he could, taking care to properly store the harvested plants with their tiny purple flowers in the specially designed and created containers that he had brought with him. Every so often he felt as though he was being watched, although whether it was by Charlie or Norbert he couldn’t tell and he didn’t really want to turn around and look, just in case he was imagining things. He had just finished securing the last jar when a hand groped his arse, causing him to jump and fumble the jar, thankfully not dropping it. The minute the jar in question was safely stored with the rest, the hand resumed its appreciative groping of Neville’s arse and was accompanied by Charlie’s mouth, nipping along Neville’s neck. Before Neville could say anything, he heard Charlie’s rough voice in his ear.

“I’ve wanted to do this since you got here. But you’ve been avoiding me.”

“What?” Neville gasped out when hands grasped his hips and spun him around to press against the nearest tree.

“I’ve wanted you since you set foot on the reserve. I know you want me because I’ve seen you staring. So why’ve you been avoiding me?”

Neville swallowed heavily. “Because I’ve been trying to be professional.” Neville was pleased he managed not to admit just how unprofessional he had wanted to be.

“You’ve finished working now though right?” Charlie’s teeth grazed Neville’s Adam’s apple, causing his head to thud back against the tree. “So you can be as unprofessional as you like. Nothing’s stopping you.”

Neville couldn’t actually verbalise a response because the second those words left Charlie’s lips, his mouth was on Neville’s, claiming him completely and utterly. Neville was by no means a submissive party but he was happy to cede control to Charlie, distracted as he was by the fact that he was finally able to get his hands on those leather trousers. Neville’s actions caused Charlie to pull back with a bark of a laugh and a wicked grin.

“I should’ve known it would be the leather trousers. Can’t resist them can you?”

Neville had no comeback and he knew it. That didn’t stop him running his hands over solid muscle encased in gorgeous black leather in delight; finally being able to _touch_ not just stare.

“Oh shut up and get on with it.”

“Shut up and get on with what? I don’t think you’ve told me what you want yet.”

“Shut up and just fuck me.”

“How about that. I’m surprised that such a _good boy_ knows a word like fuck.”

“ _Charlie…_ ”

“Don’t worry. It will be my pleasure to fuck you.”

It was on the tip of his tongue to protest at being called a good boy but then he was being spun around to face the tree, his trousers and pants unceremoniously tugged down around his ankles and any words evaporated.

Neville had been so focused on certain attributes of Charlie’s in those damned leather trousers that he hadn’t bothered to spare a thought for what it would actually be like to have sex with Charlie other than the fact that it would be incredibly hot. What he hadn’t been prepared for was how easily and so completely Charlie overwhelmed his senses. It was simultaneously too much and not enough.

There was the rasp of Charlie’s stubble as it raked across Neville’s neck, jaw and cheeks, Charlie trailing teasing bites and kisses across whatever skin he could reach. Then there were strong, calloused fingers holding tightly to his hips, not allowing Neville to move unless Charlie himself permitted it. On top of all of that were the tantalising brushes of the leather pants against Neville’s naked skin. They stilled as there was a loud snuffling noise behind them, both of them looking over their shoulders to check that Norbert wasn’t doing anything that would cause them to stop. When they were satisfied that he wasn’t doing anything like breathing fire, Charlie wasted no time in resuming his previous actions.

To his annoyance, Neville found that he couldn’t reciprocate or even participate as much as he wanted to. What he wanted immediately was more kisses. There hadn’t been enough kissing so far. This might not be anything more than a one-time thing but that didn’t mean that Neville had to forego kissing. It wasn’t the easiest position, given that Neville was still facing the tree and Charlie showed no indication of letting him move. As a result, the ensuing kiss had absolutely no finesse whatsoever; hard and fierce with teeth clashing and noses bumping. They broke for breath briefly before moving back together, their lips fused together in a series of messy kisses as Charlie’s hands roamed Neville’s body, shoving his shirt up to pluck roughly at Neville’s nipples.

It seemed like forever before slickened fingers were probing at Neville’s entrance and he gave a start; he hadn’t even heard Charlie say the necessary spell. The confusion didn’t last long because then thick, blunt fingers were cursorily shoved inside him, opening him up in preparation for Charlie’s cock. It was a fortunate that Neville wasn’t in the mood for slow and careful because that wasn’t what he was going to get. Not that Charlie was overly rough; he just knew what he wanted and was intent on getting it. Neville certainly wasn’t complaining.

And then, just as he was about to tell Charlie to get a move on with things, Charlie’s cock was sliding into him slowly and steadily, not stopping until his balls were pressed against Neville’s arse. It took them a few minutes to get the angle right but once they did, Neville jerking in Charlie’s grip as the cock inside him raked over his prostate, then Charlie didn’t waste any time. He set up a steady rhythm, at first only hitting Neville’s prostate with every third thrust until Neville was wriggling and writhing, reaching down to take his own cock in hand. That didn’t go down well with Charlie, who grabbed both of Neville’s wrists in one hand, pinning them above their heads. Neville’s aborted movements seemed to have stirred something within Charlie though and he now bottomed out within Neville with every thrust. Using the grip that he still had on one of Neville’s hips, Charlie ensured that he pulled Neville back onto his cock with every thrust, each movement raking across Neville’s prostate.

Neville did his best to muffle the sounds that were escaping from him in his forearm, very conscious that there was a highly dangerous dragon mere metres away from them. It wasn’t that easy to stay quiet though. Neville was normally very vocal during sex and considering that there were no humans around to hear them, he felt no need to restrict himself that much; even if there was a dragon in the vicinity. Besides, it wasn’t physically possible to be completely silent when Charlie’s frankly wonderful cock was driving in and out of him, filling him completely. Then, finally, one of Charlie’s hands was wrapping itself around Neville’s previously ignored penis. The feeling of that calloused palm and fingers on sensitised skin was unlike anything Neville had ever felt before and just tipped him over the edge.

With a cry that he wasn’t able to completely muffle, Neville came, spraying his release across the trunk of the tree in front of him. His head dropped back onto Charlie’s shoulder as Charlie’s grip shifted so that both hands were gripping Neville’s hips once more and he could thrust even harder. The shift in position wasn’t ideal for Neville as his over-sensitised cock occasionally ended up scraping against the rough bark of the tree. In an attempt to avoid that happening, Neville pushed back even further against Charlie, taking him even deeper, if that was even possible, with every thrust. It didn’t take too much longer before Charlie was coming inside Neville with a roar, not unlike that of the creatures that he looked after, albeit quieter. Neville moaned at the feel of Charlie’s semen inside him, slumping forward under Charlie’s weight as it became apparent that Charlie was disinclined to move just yet.

By the time Charlie finally pulled out and cleaned them up as best as he could Neville’s legs felt like he’d been hit by a Jelly-Legs Jinx. Charlie helped him to pull his trousers up and rearrange his shirt before turning Neville around so that he could lean against the tree to catch his breath.

Breath which was then promptly stolen once more as Charlie leant in and kissed him thoroughly before pulling back again.

“Well … that was some fuck. Fancy another ago?”

“Mmrph,” Neville blinked and tried to clear his head. “What?”

“I said, that was a good fuck. I wouldn’t mind having you again. We could even try a bed next time.” One of Charlie’s hands snuck down the back of Neville’s trousers, teasing his still-slick hole. “A relationship wouldn’t necessarily work, we both know that, but oh the things I want to do to you. The things I could do to you.”

Neville moaned as his cock twitched, starting to harden again despite his recent orgasm. He definitely wasn’t going to say no to anything that got him in Charlie Weasley’s bed for a repeat performance.

“So how often do you think you’re going to need fresh supplies of that bloody plant?” Charlie’s voice was rough and his breath hot against Neville’s skin as he whispered in Neville’s ear.

Neville bit back a moan as he rolled his hips against Charlie’s, feeling the older man’s resurging interest brushing against his own. “I’m sure I can find enough clients justify a regular supply run.”

His answer earned him a rough kiss as he was pulled away from the tree by Charlie. “Good boy. Now come on, let’s try this somewhere Norbert can’t watch us.”


End file.
